


Remember that time Keith got space herpes

by hiat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alien Culture, I'm sorry for my trash OC's, Jealousy, Keith seriously does get space herpes, Lance's Awakening, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Oblivious Lance (Voltron), Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Shit me this is gonna be a wild ride, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), We've got some
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiat/pseuds/hiat
Summary: The mission was simple enough: stand there, smile and don’t say anything stupid, Lance, for the love of all that is quiznak. Lance protested; he was pretty sure that Pidge wasn’t using that word right either.





	1. The Hanging Garden

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first two chapters in like 2 hours lmao.   
> I'll probably write some more before work tomorrow morning. Here's hoping for chapter three before saturday if you guys like this bc IDK what I'm doing.

The mission was simple enough: stand there, smile and _don’t say anything stupid, Lance, for the love of all that is quiznak._ Lance protested; he was pretty sure that Pidge wasn’t using that word right either.

The alliance that the Paladins and Alteans were trying to secure was admittedly pretty important. The Morrim were a _pretty big deal_ in this quadrant. Their technology had held fast against probing Galra squads, and their trade connections made just about every element known to Alteans within reach. Everything was there to bring the castle’s defences up to standard. It had been ten thousand years after all and there was a limit to forward compatibility.

The talks had gone pretty well. Their Juilant (Lance had worked out this was something like a president) had been eager to co-operate and had even heard of Voltron before. The Morrim had of course tried to argue that Voltron would be best used in their own hands. The Morrim were more in tune with the future’s technology and their own pilots well versed in Galra tactics. All of the paladins had bristled at that. Lance had nearly shouted his own protest; they were a damn good team. He knew that Keith would be just as pissed as him and turned, looking for back up when he noticed Keith had kept it together, teeth gritted and fists clenched; and damn if he wasn’t going to let that mullet out do him. He was going to be diplomatic as hell. Breathing heavily through his nose he kept his mouth shut and let Allura argue their case. Lance felt his shoulders raise with the swelling of his heart as Allura sang their praises. “Excellent teamwork, valiant heroes, courageous and brilliant tacticians.” Lance’s head could have drifted from his shoulders and off into orbit with the way it had swollen from all of Allura’s compliments. They were, of course, meant to be describing _all_ of the paladins – not just Lance. Lance, of course, didn’t pay that thought too much mind. He felt himself loosening up and preening as she went on and felt at ease enough to glance around the meeting hall they were stood in.

The ceilings tapered into tall points above them, a lattice work of beams and glittering chandeliers fell in haphazard patterns and varying heights. At the very top sat a few young Morrim who peeked over the edges of Mori beams to spy on the alien visitors. Lance wondered a little at how high up they were, their only means up seeming to be the billowing, gossamer drapes that bloomed from the wall in soft blues and greys. Lance supposed that he shouldn’t find it too odd as the Morrim were built as if they were good climbers. Even their young had broad shoulders and thick arms and thighs, good for climbing and pulling themselves up the lofty trees and mountainous peaks of their world. In general the Morrim looked like hardy folk. Their bodies were robust and hadn’t withered despite the heavy integration of advanced technology. At least Lance assumed they hadn’t – what if pre-technology Morrim were fucking ripped? Maybe they had _eight-packs, holy shit._

Despite how much more muscled they were in general, they had delicate features. They had long, wide, eyes with thick eyelashes and plump lips and cheeks. Lance had noticed only a handful of different eye, hair, and skin tones; so he supposed there wasn’t a lot of variation within the Morrim. Most Morrim had brown or amber eyes and dark hair. Their skin tones seemed to vary much like humans and in similar hues though all Morrim sported freckles and paler swathes of skin looping behind their ears and dipping into the clothes on their backs.

Lance winked at a (female??) Morrim that stood to his left. They were a little thinner than the Juilant with long limbs and spindly fingers. Their hair was gathered into an intricate braid that fell messily over her forehead. He figured he caught her attention as she blinked slowly at him. He grinned and tipped his head a little, hoping to convey his interest without stopping Allura’s flow of praise. She copied the tipping of his head and her nose wrinkled adorably. Lance had learned pretty quickly that the nose wrinkle was a sort of pre-smile that Morrim expressed. (The layers of expression and circles of closeness and meaning was a little too complicated for Lance to fully grasp on the first meeting) The expression she was flooring Lance with was definitely a good one, though. He was so in there. Lance reached up to waggle his fingers at her when he felt a sharp jab to the soft, mercilessly unprotected, gap in his armour just below his ribs. Swallowing a hiss, he straightened up and glared at Shiro’s offending hand from the corner of his eye. Right. Make nice first, flirt later.

Allura’s insistent praise seemed to have swayed the Juilant who considered them all carefully.

“I suppose time is what will truly test these Paladins. I accept your offer Princess Allura. Their display when facing the war-fleet on the edge of our system was truly magnificent. Perhaps we should work towards building our own Voltron rather than taking yours!” His nose wrinkled and he smiled until soft dimples appeared at the apples of his cheeks, flushing deeply under his dark skin. Dark eyes fluttered half closed while he hummed softly, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears and down to the point of his chin in evenly painted lines. Truly the Paladins were being graced with the warmest smile a Morrim could offer.

Allura smiled beatifically and clasped her arm to the Juilant’s extended one, touching their wrists together as was the Morrim’s customary greeting.

“I’m glad to hear it. I believe that together we will be stronger than ever facing the Galra.”

Lance let his eyes wander back to the Morrim(ette?) from before only to find her attention diverted. She was turned away and watching something else. Lance followed her gaze only to land on…

 _Keith. Of course. He has to steal her away too! Even in space he’s always ahead of me and stealing the spotlight._ Lance frowned and pouted as he watched the Morrim who had been totally digging him watch Keith. Keith in return looked like he had been caught red-handed when he glanced at Lance for just a moment. _That mullet knows he’s stealing her from me! Keith you dirty quiznak!_

Lance glared harder at Keith before sidling over to the radiant Morrim he had been making eyes at. She perked up as he approached, nose wrinkling in friendly greeting. The formality of the talks had broken as Allura, Shiro and the Juilant took centre stage, working out the finer details. The paladins all respectively investigated the room and chatted with the Morrim while they lingered close enough to remain polite.

Lance flirted and laughed with Yra, asking her questions about her world and herself. He only stumbled a few times with cheesy lines that didn’t translate too well, but she just wrinkled her nose and laughed it off and Lance felt his heart swoop with the sound. She was perfect.

The night wore on, the moons visible through the high windows were stunning and so much closer than Earth’s own. Here with Yra by his side he could pick out craters and hues of rust and shimmering rainbow oil in the larger moon – Jula – Yra had called it. The smaller one had fewer distinguishing features and colours that Lance could pick out with the naked eye but it hung there glowing and just as mesmerising as Jula. The night was bright and Lance felt dazzled by the twilight world of the glowing garden before him. Blooming flowers glowed with an ethereal light that tilted up towards the moons; soft reds and golds that lit up sculpted beds of plants and shrubs with delicate twisting fronds. Tinkling wind chimes caught a cold gust of air and Lance shivered where he leaned on the windowsill, listening to Yra talk.

Lance squinted into the half-light as Yra spoke, his eyes suddenly catching on a familiar mullet. He’d recognise it anywhere. Keith had wandered somewhere into the garden and was sitting with one of the other Morrim who had been privy to the discussion with the Juilant. Keith was facing away from Lance who could only see the curve of his jaw, pale and sharp under the moonlight. He stood relaxed listening intently to the Morrim that was with him. Keith’s neck had craned up to speak to them; the Morrim so much taller and bulkier than him. Ha. Lance was hitting it off with a hot Morrim babe and Keith was stuck with a dude. Keith was going to be super jealous. Lance  1 – Keith  0.

Eventually Shiro called over to Lance to regroup before wandering out to find Keith who had disappeared further into the garden beyond the range of even Lance’s superior night vision. When they finally gathered once more it was so that Lance and the other Paladins who had wandered away from the discussion could be debriefed on the plan at hand. The Juilant was more than happy to oblige Allura in fostering relations with other friendly peoples and supplying some materials and technology to boost the defences of the castle. First, however, a few traditional rituals must be observed to make their alliance concrete.

Allura, as leader of their motley crew, was to spar with the Juilant in a friendly show of sportsmorrimship. There were no winners, no implications as to the state of the relationship. It was a show of trust and closeness more than anything and Allura was happy to oblige. The Paladins moved to protest much to Allura’s disproval but Shiro shut them down quickly; smiling with confidence at the princess who he knew could easily throw him across the room. Seriously guys, this was _not an issue._  Hunk was to assist in making the food for the celebration feast ‘a chance to share the staple of our cultures’, and Pidge was to take the opportunity to go over tech upgrades and was invited to explore their database. Shiro and Lance were on duty for meeting and greeting and generally being shown off as heroic new friends to the Morrim. Last was Keith’s job for the next day or two. He was to escort Arne to the peak of their highest mountain where a pure spring resided. The water was perfect and rejuvenating yet never froze over in the icy peaks. The Paladins shared hesitant glances at that; thinking that it probably wasn’t for human consumption but the Juilant laughed and insisted that they may test it however they like before they partake in sharing a drink of it.

Lance realised belatedly that Arne was the Morrim that Keith had wandered into the garden with previously. In the amber glow of the chandeliers, Lance could see he was _built,_ and gifted with strong facial features. He wilted for a moment feeling almost scrawny next to Arne but let it slide as he preened under the realisation that Yra had been talking to _him_ all night.

The Morrim soon bid a good night to the Paladins who returned to rest in their ship. They would be back just after sunrise on the planet to begin preparations for the formalisation of their alliance.

Lance simpered and flirted with Yra for a few precious minutes before he was bodily dragged away by Shiro. Yra laughed and waved to him, promising to see him again the next day. Lance was in love.


	2. Just quiznak the Goron, Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B^)

Keith stretched and sighed, his morning exercise was cut a little short in light of keeping to the Morrim’s schedule. He’d probably regret it when he strained a muscle while climbing the mountain later. Humans weren’t quite as well made for mountain climbing as the Morrim were and Keith didn’t want to cause offence by reaching the peak wheezing and crawling on his hands and knees. Arne was too kind to make a big deal out of a social misstep or two as Keith had found the night before. He had fumbled with his words a few times, unintentionally blunt but his companion had simply wrinkled his nose and declared him quite straight forward. Keith had blushed in shame at that and that had set off a bizarre blushing chain reaction in the Morrim. Their blush had mirrored Keith’s painting thick striped directly across the tops of his cheeks and to the tips of his ears but did not dip to his chin the way it had with the Juilant. Instead it had lingered there beneath his half-lidded eyes and Keith had caught himself staring. After that Arne had renewed his interest in the conversation, barely letting Keith get a question in himself as he fielded a thousand from his companion.

Keith… enjoyed it. He enjoyed the easy companionship, the interest being shown in him. It was easy to feel on the outside of a group that centred on Lance – Lance who hated him for literally no reason. Keith frowned at that, he really couldn’t figure out why.  The feeling definitely wasn’t mutual and every time he thought they had made a little progress Lance threw it back in his face like he was scared to be friends with him. There in a moonlit garden slipping between peaceful silence and easy conversation, Keith felt content.

They had met again at the base of the mountain, a few basic climbing supplies strapped to Keith’s back while Arne stood empty handed. They began their ascent, Arne taking long and powerful strides even up the steeper inclines, and pulling himself up holds and onto ledges with ridiculous ease. Keith struggled to keep up. He powered on through with determination and endurance where he lacked in finesse. The climb became tougher as the air became thinner and they stopped every so often for Keith to get his bearings. A flurry of snow and piercing wind swept across the cliff face and Keith felt his joints lock up at the sudden change of temperature. Still, he pushed on as he focused on the importance of successfully completing his mission. The alliance was resting on this magic spring.

They paused once again at a small cave that punctured the north side of the mountain. The clouds hid even the tips of the oldest trees in the forest and all Keith could see was the blinding white and dull grey of stone before him. It hurt his eyes, quickly drying in the wind and dazed by the glare. He turned back to the cave where Arne was lighting a fire in a small hearth that was carved just away from the entrance. A lantern flickered to life and cast its glow deeper into the cave. As his eyes adjusted, Keith could see that the cave had started off as a natural formation but had clearly become a common stopping point for mountaineers and the like. A few wide bunks and hammocks were slung across the far wall and a table had been pushed opposite the hearth. The furniture looked well used and in greater disrepair than the central gardens he had been invited to tour in the capital city. It wasn’t shabby by any means. Keith thought he had never seen a bed that looked as comfortable as the one he was eyeing in that moment; bones weary and chilled.

 

Keith approached the fire that Arne was stoking and dropped onto his haunches, pack slung off as he warmed his hands. He grinned up at the Morrim hoping to convey his gratitude and was relieved to see them returning the gesture.

“We should probably rest here for the night.” Arne began voice soft against the howling wind.

“I’m impressed that you’ve kept up with me, but even we Morrim wouldn’t brave a storm like that. Our Juilant would understand; we can bring back water from the spring the next sunset.” Keith sucked at his bottom lip for a second, thinking it over. While he desperately wanted to rest, he knew that he shouldn’t be too far out of reach in case Voltron was needed to form at any given moment. 

“…Let’s check in with your Juilant and my Princess. We should let them know what’s happening.” Keith watched the fire for a moment, before reaching into his pack for the communicator Pidge had handed him before he left. He tapped the button at the top once and watched a small red light illuminate underneath it.

“Allura? Shiro? I’ve got some news.” He called tentatively, unsure who was listening in on the other end. Pidge had just handed it to him and said he could use it to talk to them. Was it linked into their helmets? Who knows? A few beats passed before a thin and distorted transmission played back to him.

“Keith, everything okay?” It was Shiro. He frowned, thinking that the storm must be interfering with their connection. Keith could barely hear him.

“Yeah, but a storm has hit while we were halfway up and we’re going to be stuck here for the night. Apparently it’s nasty even by the Morrim’s standards let alone ours.”

“Are you two alright? Do you need us to pick you up in a lion?” Keith laughed under his breath, Shiro’s worry seeping out between each syllable.

“No we’re fine; we found a sheltered stopping point. We’ll carry on in the morning and I’ll contact again if we really need rescuing.”

“Alright, well we’ll see you tomorrow then.” Keith pressed down on the glowing button again and let the communicator switch off before stuffing it back into his pack. He felt relief that everything seemed to be okay despite the minor setback. He sat himself properly down, wincing at how cold the stone was beneath him. Arne shuffled a little closer and Keith was grateful for it. The heat radiating off of the Morrim was great, it was like another fire pressed up to his side. Keith relaxed and let himself drift into conversation with Arne again, listening to him talk about his childhood, his dreams, the work he did now as an adult.

Eventually the topic turned to his fellow Paladins and the battles they had fought together. Keith retold some of their highlights, and skipped the times where Voltron had been too late to save the day. He reminisced about Shiro as he knew him back on his planet and how he had disappeared which is what drew them all out into the universe and into the war with the Galra. Arne listened with a warm expression on his features but it soon fell into something nearing frustration. Keith felt himself trail off, unsure of what he had done.

“What of the Blue Paladin?” He asked, the rumbling timbre of his voice deeper and more insistent than before. Keith swallowed harshly, his mouth suddenly dry.

“What of him?”

“Are you not…? Is he your…?” Arne asked, a crimson flush spreading along his brow and the underside of his jaw.

Keith blinked, utterly lost.

“I don’t understand. He’s my teammate and self-proclaimed rival.” At that Arne’s flush receded quickly and his nose wrinkled upwards. _Cute._

“That’s good then.” The Morrim huffed, tense shoulders and chest suddenly deflating a little. Keith puzzled at that.

“It is?” Arne moved a little further forward, face leaning in close. Keith got caught in his amber eyes that flickered in the firelight. His eyes seemed to be burning.

“Yes, or else I’d fear making an enemy of the Paladins of Voltron.” Arne’s long fingers reached up and tentatively stroked along the swell of Keith’s cheek and he shivered at the touch. His heart pounded into the skin of his chest and his breath caught as he looked down to Arne’s lips that seemed to be inching closer.

 _Oh._ He thought. Arne had noticed. He had noticed how Keith had watched Lance flirting with Yra. He must have noticed Keith’s disdain, his jealousy. Lance was straight. Keith knew this but he couldn’t help the way his heart skipped a beat when they were laughing together instead of fighting. The way the bottom of his stomach fell out into the void of space below his feet when Lance got hurt, or let himself show off with something flashy that caught the attention of Galra pilots. The way his face lit up with his friends. Everything Lance was was beautiful but he could never tell him that. Lance was down in the city with Yra probably hitting it off since she seemed to enjoy his ridiculous pick-up lines. Keith was up here with Arne who was mesmerising in his own way and was pressing himself up against Keith, his soft, _so soft_ lips were melting into his and Keith could have this. Arne was here and he wanted Keith, and Keith wanted him. He pushed back into Arne’s touch and threaded his own hands into short, dark, hair. His fingers trailed over the base of Arne’s neck where the pale skin looped up to his ears. Arne shivered and Keith felt a guttural sound rumble through Arne’s thick chest. Fascinated, he tentatively rubbed his fingers back over the sensitive skin behind Arne’s ears and neck. Keith found himself on his back, stunned as he caught up with what happened. He had been bowled over by the weight of the other and was being kissed breathless, hands worming under his clothes. Heat pooling in his gut, Keith reached out to worry the pale skin again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating may go up in later chapters but this is about as spicee as this is gettin right now


	3. Jealousy thy name is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Un beta'd still my dudes   
> Guess I totally missed the mark with chapter 3 by last saturday, but hey I'm doing better than my other ongoing fics (i'm so so sorry)

Lance had struck out and he just couldn’t understand it. He’d been chatting with Yra and getting along great as they toured the capital city. She had smiled radiantly at his clever anecdotes and flirted back with Lance, and at about midday he thought he was safe to make the move. _The_ move _._ Faking a yawn, he stretched his arm out to circle around her shoulders and the second his skin so much as grazed the back of her neck she freaked out and pushed him away; angrily whispering things in her language, too fast for Lance to catch up and try to process from the handful of words he had picked up. The entire plaza had stopped and looked at him then, arm frozen in mid-air and Shiro had had to work double time to patch up whatever kind of faux-pas Lance had just made. Lance still had no clue exactly what was wrong about what he did, but a lot of apologising and his head being forced into a bow by the heavy weight of Shiro’s prosthetic seemed to do the trick of smoothing it over. Yra disappeared and Lance didn’t see her again. He mourned the loss and kept his wandering hands to himself, expression downcast as Shiro took the lead in exchanging pleasantries.

Lance thinks that he probably met the mayor or custodian of the city, but he wasn’t really paying too much attention. _Maybe if he caught up with her and apologised some more, he might be able to at least part as friends_. He was just about to let Shiro in on his plan when a soft chirp filtered through the air and caught both Paladins’ attention. Shiro apologetically smiled to their host, muttering a quick ‘Excuse us’ before reaching into his pocket and fishing out a small device. Lance absently thought that it looked a little like the communicator in the really, _really_ old original Star Trek series. Shiro flicked at one of the buttons at the bottom and it illuminated in a pale white light. Not a moment later, Keith’s voice crackled from the device and Lance found himself tensing a little with anticipation. Keith wouldn’t call unless something was wrong. He could see a thin crease of worry had worked its way between Shiro’s brows as he responded to Keith. Keith was stuck on the mountain in a storm, and would be delayed until at least the next day. It definitely wasn’t the worst thing to happen - Lance would have a few more hours to find Yra and apologise.

\- 

Keith emerged at the base of the mountain late the next evening, looking a great deal more dishevelled than when he had gone up it. Lance poked fun at him for it, as the other Paladins had gathered to greet the mountain party.

“You kept us waiting mullet! Some of us did important diplomatic work while you were messing about.” Keith’s eyes snapped to Lance’s at his remark. He almost looked panicked before his expression relaxed and his attention drifted away again. He didn’t respond to Lance or deign to look in his direction after that. That – that was just _rude._ Lance preferred it when he could goad Keith into petty bickering better than when he got frustrated looks and silence. He felt more distant as a teammate when he wouldn’t even speak to him, like he was treating Lance as a toddler that was having a tantrum.

Shiro went to check on Keith, slapping a hand on the slope of his shoulder. Keith smiled thinly and declared the mission a success, his gaze repeatedly flickering over to where Arne stood. Shiro smiled and then turned to the Morrim who had accompanied Keith and launched into polite inquiries as to their trip. Lance noted that Arne had been quiet during the exchange, and had been watching Shiro with a sharp gaze from the moment he had gone over to speak to Keith. Lance couldn’t say for certain but he thought that Arne’s responses were far curter than before. Maybe it had been rude to address Keith first? Maybe it was rude to touch other people casually in the Morrim culture? Yra had freaked out earlier when Lance had tried to put his arm around her before. That _must_ be it. At least Lance wasn’t the only one to make that mistake.

The party split not long after that, Arne’s replies to any conversation was clipped and short, and with little to say the group made its way back to see the Juilant with samples of the pure spring in tow. The party started that evening, and each paladin was handed a small cup of the spring water to toast with. As promised the Juilant allowed them to test it first to ensure it was safe for human consumption and Lance placed his on the table where they had all left their share. Pidge had gotten out another strange device and was dipping an attached probe into one of the cups. With a few minutes to spare before the big speech was to happen, the paladins dispersed once again.

Lance wandered out to the windowsill he had leant on and talked with Yra. Alone this time, he contented himself with gazing out into the gardens. After a moment a familiar mullet caught his attention. Keith was out in the garden again, his expression pinched and worried as he talked to a clearly displeased Arne; thick arms crossed over his broad chest. Keith must have messed up too! Lance felt a little smug that his rival was also slipping up on Morrim customs. He strained his ears to try and listen in on their conversation but the wind was carrying their voices away from him, anything that he might have caught was obscured by the gently tinkling wind chimes. Lance watched as Arne laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder and leaned in close to say something, and Lance felt himself tense a little. He felt like he was watching something private even though they were just standing there having a friendly conversation. Arne’s expression had cleared and Keith looked relieved by whatever had been said. Annoyingly, Keith could even fix diplomatic fuckups better than Lance. A sudden strong gust blew back into Lance making him screw up his eyes and flail, and when they opened again both Keith and Arne were staring at him. Keith looked slightly panicked and Arne scowled, prompting Lance to back off quickly into the main room. They probably thought he had been trying to listen into their secrets about the sacred mountain or whatever it was they were talking about.

By the time the speech rolled around and Pidge had deemed the water safe to drink, Keith still hadn’t turned up. Lance didn’t pay it any mind. If Keith wanted to avoid the totally awesome party being thrown for their alliance, that was just fine by him. After all, it meant there was less competition in the room with any hot Morrim ladies. The only problem was Keith wasn’t there to see how much more popular and successful Lance was with them, and that put a little bit of a dampener on the whole thing. How was he supposed to rub it in his rivals face if he didn’t _know_ he’d been bested by the one and only Lance? If only every single female Morrim in the room wasn’t giving him the stink eye he would be the life of the party.

Lance didn’t notice when Keith re-joined the group, but he was definitely there standing near Shiro as they bid a formal good-bye to the Juilant at the end of the night. The alliance was secure and a beacon had been left in the capable hands of their leader, the same way as it had been with the Arusians.

Life returned to normal as soon as they were back and had put a few lightyears of distance between the Morrim and the castleship. Lance put extra work into his training sessions and felt proud of himself as he improved, managing to land a few hits even on Keith; who seemed to be struggling with training in comparison. Hunk and Pidge had been working overtime on upgrading and fixing parts of the ship that had fallen into disrepair and even Shiro seemed more animated as he discussed strategies with the Princess. Their trip had done wonders for morale; everybody seemed to be brimming with energy ever since the party.  

The same couldn’t be said for Keith, Lance mused as he wandered down the hallway. Comparatively Keith had been floundering. He had looked pale and nauseated at the last few mealtimes, and his reactions when training had been sluggish. A couple of times he had caught Keith spacing out, completely distracted. Something was up for certain, but he probably wouldn’t talk to anyone but Shiro about it. Shiro would take care of whatever it was. Lance felt a little concerned, and a great deal frustrated that Keith wasn’t sharing what was wrong with the rest of the team. During their ‘mental link’ training exercises, Keith’s mind had closed up completely; quadruple locked and bolted. Shiro had made a comment at that, but Keith hadn’t relented and the exercise had ended there.

Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets as his wandering grew purpose with the tell-tale discomfort of a full bladder. After a few moments later Keith came barrelling around the corner ahead. He was power-walking quickly towards Lance, his fists clenched tight and eyes split wide. His lips were pressed firmly together, the force leaching the colour from them. He stormed past Lance without as much as a nod of acknowledgement or word of greeting. Lance frowned as he watched his rapidly retreating back before following the corridor Keith had burst out from, ducking into the bathroom that was halfway down. _Weird._


	4. FUFKCKCCFUCKC??????????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there are swears  
> Coran is a good space uncle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter  
> \\[*¬*]/

Keith was _freaking out._ He had been feeling a little under the weather ever since… the mission with the Morrim but he put it down to being stuck in a damp cave for a night in the middle of a blizzard. He had been running hot and cold and his limbs felt weak as if they were made of rubber. His fever made his head throb and his vision swam with each pulse. He couldn’t keep food down and even Lance had landed some hits when they were sparring, and that definitely set off alarm bells. It wasn’t that Lance was a bad Paladin – far from it, but Keith was the best at hand to hand combat. He had trained in martial arts for years, and to be hit by a guy who broadcasted his moves as if he had a megaphone… He could barely keep up for ten minutes before he was exhausted and calling it quits. Describing it as an off-week doesn’t really cut it. Keith had never felt as awful or feeble in his life. It was like super space flu.

The other problems… well; Keith had felt that relieving himself had grown uncomfortable in addition to his flu-like symptoms, but the final straw was the huge blisters that had sprung up over his junk, oozing and painful. When he’d seen that, the bottom had fallen out of his stomach and he fought the urge to shout. _What the **fuck.**_ He was completely freaking out as he stood there, his plague-ridden flesh hanging limp in his hands. _What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck._ He zipped himself back in and burst out of the bathroom, doubling back to wash his hands because- gross, before bursting back out of the bathroom door again. He almost ran into Lance as he rounded the corner and Lance was definitely not someone he wanted to know about his predicament.

Rushing by, Keith considered his options. Shiro would help him and would try to be as discreet as possible about it, but Keith would probably _die_ if he told Shiro why his junk was about to fall off. He could never look him in the eyes again. Shiro was ruled out as a possible option. Allura? Hell no. Pidge? Not even going there. Hunk? Hunk probably wouldn’t know what to do and would almost definitely tell Lance in his attempt to help. Coran… Coran would probably just nudge him with his elbow and slap him on the back before sending him for a light nap in the healing pod. Coran would know what to do, and probably - maybe wouldn’t tell Allura.

It took an excruciating hour to hunt him down. Every time he found someone they told him the direction he had headed off in, but Keith always seemed to be just a few tics behind. Eventually he caught up to the Altean and cornered him in the hallway outside of the healing pods. _Convenient._ Coran was dangling from a ventilation system that he was vigorously cleaning when Keith cleared his throat, hoping to get his attention. Coran squawked and bumped his head into the thin metal, a terrible thud echoed through the vents along with a few choice Altean curses.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you.” Keith sheepishly rubbed at his cold arms as Coran slid out of his perch, and landed neatly on the floor.

“Ah, it’s quite alright. I must confess I was in my own world there! Cleaning is very therapeutic, I find.” Coran rubbed a little at his scalp where he’d bumped it but stood politely waiting for Keith to speak.

The red paladin coughed; uncomfortable and completely at a loss as to how to start the conversation.

“Um, I…” Keith drew in a calming breath and stared hard over Coran’s left shoulder.

“I, uh, think I’m sick. I think I need to go in the healing pod.” Keith’s voice was small as he forced the words out. He could see Coran’s bushy ginger eyebrows draw together in concern as he stepped forward and laid a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith almost flinched away from the touch, his thoughts drifting back to Arne – the cause of his current predicament. At least Keith thought he was a likely suspect, anyway.

“Why didn’t you say so sooner? We’ve all thought that you’d been a little off-colour!” Coran slipped into a mini-inquisition, barraging Keith with questions as to his symptoms, when they started, had he eaten anything strange on the planet? Touched any weird plants?

“I…” Keith groaned and hid his face in his hands as Coran crowded in, startled by his distress. Keith kept his voice low, just in case anyone was listening.  
“I think I picked something up when I… with a Morrim. Um.”

“You…? Oh. Oh!” Coran slapped his other hand on Keith’s other shoulder as Keith’s face burned in shame.

“Oh I see! Is it bad down there?” Keith nodded, biting the inside of his lip to keep himself from screaming. Spontaneous human combustion was a thing, right? He’d seen it in documentaries, and he would love if it would happen to him right that very second. He might even start to warm up. Quiznak it was cold.

“Not to worry, Keith, I had my fair share back in the day! Why every other dalliance had me recovering in a pod. Some alien species just don’t mix very well unfortunately!”

Keith released his head from the cradle of his hands and stared just over Coran’s shoulder again, face pinched with the severe distress he was experiencing.

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this – I don’t want them to know about my condition.” Coran nodded in understanding.

“A few tics in the pod and we’ll have you rain-right! Am I using that expression correctly? Well anyway, we won’t have to worry anyone if there’s nothing to worry about. Please do tell me if your symptoms progress though, we might need to visit the Morrim if our machine can’t calibrate itself to fix the problem.” Coran pondered as he guided Keith towards the pod room with a firm hand on his back.

“Wait, you mean it might not work? I might get _worse? I feel like I’m dying!_ ”Keith protested, as he felt the sharp tang of panic rise in his throat.

“Truthfully, you might be! We just don’t know ha ha!” The door slid shut behind them and Keith stood motionless as Coran carried on and approached a pod. Coran fiddled with the settings on a panel before motioning for Keith to get in the pod.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen. We’ll have you spend a while in the pod and if that doesn’t work we’ll go to where you picked up your ‘problem’.” Coran waggled his fingers in the Altean equivalent of air quotations as he said problem. Keith fought the urge to vomit. With shaking legs he settled into the pod and felt the cold seep deeper into his bones as it closed around him. Darkness enveloped him and he drifted into it, unable to do anything else.


	5. RIP Keith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3 chapters in one evening?   
> all un beta'd but I hope u guys are enjoying this self-indulgent mess as much as i'm enjoying writing it

Hunk hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. He really hadn’t but he had been worried about Keith. There had been something wrong with his teammate ever since the mission with the Morrim and he had practically looked dead on his feet when he’d approached Hunk asking where Coran was. Hunk had absently told him where he thought he was as he waited for the delicate and temperamental rise of goo soufflé, but felt the guilt set in after Keith had staggered away. After successfully putting away his masterpieces he headed in the direction that he had told Keith and ran into Pidge who sent him off somewhere else just as they had for Keith. He heard the low voices of his friends as he approached, keeping well back in the hallway. Admittedly this was the point where he should have either walked away or come forward and announced his presence but he _panicked, okay_.

What he overheard settled ice in his veins and lead in his gut as Keith asked for Coran to keep his condition a secret. Keith had a condition? He was sick and it was serious enough to hide from the rest of them. Not good; and it might be something that the healing pods can’t fix? Even more Not Good.

Keith cried out at that, his voice wrung out and desperate and Hunk had never heard Keith like that before.

“Wait, you mean it might not work? I might get _worse? I feel like I’m dying!_ ”

“Truthfully, you might be! We just don’t know ha ha!”

The door shut behind them and effectively blocked out the last of their conversation as Hunk stood, rooted to the floor. He leaned on the wall for support as he tried to process what he had just heard.

Keith was quiznakking _dying._

Their fellow Paladin and friend was on his death bed. Keith was going to die. He had been just fine the week before but now Hunk had to face the reality that he was dying and everything was way too much. He needed to talk to someone because _Keith was dying_.

Shit, what’s wrong with him? What happened? Why wouldn’t he tell anyone? Keith’s dying? Shit.

Hunk stumbled away down the corridor, retracing his route back to the kitchen. His path took him back past Pidge and as soon as he saw them fat tears began spilling from his eyes and streaking down his cheeks. Pidge looked up in alarm as Hunk stood in the doorway, crying silently as they stared.

“Hunk, what’s wrong?” Pidge scrambled to their feet and approached, a tentative hand hovered out to Hunk’s side.

“Keith-“ Hunk hiccoughed. “Keith’s dying!” Pidge wasn’t expecting that.

“What?”

“He- I accidentally overheard Keith talking to Coran and Keith is _dying._ ”

“I don’t understand - we just saw him at breakfast? I mean sure he’s been a little off lately, but I don’t think he’s dying.” Pidge shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Keith wasn’t dying. Hunk sniffed wetly and tried his best to explain over the quivering of his voice.

“Coran said that the healing pod might not be able to help him; that he might have to go back to the Morrim. Keith said that he felt like he was dying and Coran said he was!” That’s definitely what Coran had said. Hunk couldn’t mistake the panic that had coursed through him and rushed in his ears as they had talked. He didn’t want Keith to die. What could they do? Why wouldn’t he tell them? What happened? Shit.

“No, no. That – that can’t be right. This has to be a misunderstanding. How the hell have we missed someone dying right under our noses? No. Let’s go see Coran right now.” Pidge ducked under Hunks arms and dug their fingers into the fabric of Hunk’s shirt as they passed, dragging him along.

A miserable sight met them as they entered the pod room a few minutes later. Keith sat on the steps in front of an empty pod, his head in his hands as Coran sat next to him. Coran had a hand on his back as he leaned against the steps with a thoughtful expression on his face. Oh god. Keith really was dying.

Before either Pidge or Hunk could get a word out, Allura’s voice blared out over the intercom system.

“Paladins, we have altered course and will be returning to the Morrim in about one half of your human days. Our business there will hopefully be short and as such only Coran and Keith need attend to the matters on the planet’s surface. However please remain vigilant all the same.”

Hunk’s voice cracked and his tears began anew.

“The healing pod didn’t work?” Keith’s head snapped up at that, clear horror imprinted on his features.

“I’m sorry I overheard what you said earlier. Why wouldn’t you tell us that you’re dying, Keith? We care about you, you – you Quiznak!” Coran sucked in a sharp breath at that, distaste on his features. Hunk rushed forward and sat next to Keith, pressing up against his side as he wiped his eyes.

“I-“

“What happened, Keith?” Pidge had never looked as small as they stood there, arms draw n in close and fists clenched. Pidge’s expression remained closed off but the hurt underlying her tone was clear to everyone in the room.

“God, this is mortifying.” Keith buried his face in his hands again and huffed, leaning against Hunk as a wave of nausea pushed him into Hunk’s orbit. That had been the wrong thing to say as Pidge snapped and stomped forward to stand right in front of him, footfall bursting anger into the tile.

“Mortifying?” Keith kept his eyes closed and drew in a shaky breath, his head felt so light, and his groin was so _itchy._ Every uncomfortable wiggle sent jolts of pain through him as the sores were irritated by his clothes. He needed to get out of there ASAP or back in a pod-induced sleep. He coughed, the sound wet to his own ears but he could feel how it made Hunk flinch. He really, really didn’t want to tell them but he couldn’t straight up say that he wasn’t dying. He didn’t know what was happening other than super herpes and he didn’t know if the space strain was deadly. Keith, Paladin of Voltron and Defender of the Universe was taken out by an STD. How mortifying. His head hurt and it pounded with a headache. He felt so cold but he knew he was sweating from how high his temperature was running. He moved to stand and was overcome by dizziness that whited out his vision, his swirling thoughts pleasantly drifted away, dreamlike and wispy.

“Keith!” Pidge and Hunk cried, lunging forward to catch him. Coran lifted the unconscious Keith from Hunk’s grasp with ease and placed him back in the healing pod. Pidge got up suddenly with a jerky movement and stormed from the room. Hunk reached out to them as they left but let their shoulders droop as the door slipped shut behind them. Hunk sat for a moment, looking at his hands as Coran fiddled with the settings on the pod before seating himself next to the Yellow Paladin.

“In all likelihood, Keith is not dying.” Coran mused, his fingers twirling his moustache.

“Wha-“

“He is running a very high temperature at the moment which has been caused by his affliction but his vitals all seem just fine. I’d say that as long as we got him the proper care and kept his fever down he’s no more likely to die of this than a common virus.”

“What? But you said-“

“Well if he keeps over-exerting himself when he’s running such a high fever he could die! It is unlikely though - perhaps I was a little hasty with my words earlier; it’s hard to tell what is deadly to a human when you are so much more fragile than Alteans.”

Hunk sniffed, the flow of his tears stemming as he tried to unpick what Coran meant.

“So – Keith _isn’t_ dying, but he could?” Hunk began, slowly. Coran nodded.

“It’s the fever that is the real danger here?” Coran nodded again, arms crossed against his chest.

“-and the healing pod is helping to keep it down.” Coran nodded a third time.

“What happened? How did he get sick?” Hunk asked, the panic and anxiety ebbing slightly as he defined the problem and secured himself with the knowledge that Keith was not imminently dying, and there was plenty they could do to look after him.

Coran coughed and shifted uncomfortably. He glanced quickly around the room, confirming that it was just the two of them in there.

“What I am about to tell you must never leave this room. I was sworn to secrecy and you must not tell anyone about it.” Hunk gulped but nodded solemnly, ready to hear what Coran had to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly sick/hurt Keith gives me life  
> Why do I hurt my beb so  
> love me some voltron family drama


	6. Tender Sweet Meats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine if Guy Fieri was the sixth Paladin of Voltron.  
> Just...   
> Just Imagine.

Each time Keith steps out of the healing pod, he feels almost new again. His chest and feet are light, his nose and cheeks pleasantly cool… for all of three minutes anyway. It doesn’t take long for his fever to hike up. He’s worked out a system that keeps him cool, minimal movement and plenty of water pouches tide him over. He’s struggling down the corridor, side of his head and arm pressed into the cool metal as he passes, when Hunk catches up with him.

“Woah, easy! Let me help you out there.” Hunk’s cool hands grip Keith’s arm and support Keith’s weight as his centre of gravity slides to Hunk’s warm side. Keith is too tired to feel frustrated. Space herpes is a killer, it’s like super flu except his junk is also on fire. 

Kind, loyal Hunk. Hunk who had been shedding fat tears at the thought of Keith’s imminent demise. Keith resolves to clear the air… sort of.

“Hunk… I’m not dying. I’m sorry to make you worry. It’s really not all that serious.” Keith can feel each speck of energy escape him, riding his breath and hiding amongst syllables; too fast to catch.

“Oh. I know, Coran told me.” Hunk smiles kindly, with a soft understanding and a gentle squeeze as he helps Keith’s suddenly slack limbs down the hallway.

“…” Keith’s voice had escaped him. The ‘what’ that had been bursting from his chest was stuck in his throat, scraping at the walls and closing them up in its effort to stay put. He coughed once, twice, it was free.

“What?!” Keith’s cold limbs tingled with surges of adrenaline, lighting up and sparking aborted motions in his fingertips. If Hunk hadn’t already been basically carrying Keith, he thinks he might have fainted dramatically with the sudden lightheaded buzzing he was experiencing. Oh God. Coran – that quiznak-head! He’d told his teammates! Keith was never going to live it down even if he did survive the strain of Space Herpes making itself home in his nethers. Did Shiro know? Would Keith have a few minutes to say goodbye before the news eventually spread to him?

“Hey, are you okay? You really don’t look good.” Hunk’s eyebrows were pinched in worry as he helped Keith into a soft seat in a dimly lighted (and rarely-used) common room.

“Who else did Coran tell?” Hunk shifted a little guiltily.

“Only me, he made me promise not to tell. Look I know it’s a little embarrassing but I’ve got your back Keith, believe me.” The Paladin of Suffering and Misery relaxed a little, allowing his irritation and panic to curb. Keith puffed out a small sound of relief that unwound some of the tension in Hunk’s wide shoulders.

“Honestly Keith, I’ve been there too.” What? Keith shot up and took in the Paladin before him. Keith… hadn’t expected Hunk to be the type to…

Hunk sat in front of Keith’s shocked form, legs and arms crossed as he nodded solemnly. Like he was a veteran imparting knowledge and fireside comradery.

“I can’t count how many times back on Earth it would happen to me. You would have thought that I’d learnt my lesson but accidents happen. I’d be batting them away but I’m only human you know? I’ve only got two hands but damn I wish I had more!” Hunk laughed, rubbing his chin as his eyes glazed over in fond memory. Eyebrow suddenly quirking as a mischievous memory floated to the surface. “Every summer - flies to my sweet meats you know what I-“  

Keith was red, boiling over from fever or embarrassment, which - he couldn’t tell. He couldn’t believe that he was having this conversation with Hunk.  Keith flew his hands up to grab at Hunk’s wrist, halting the conversation.

“Um, listen I really don’t want to talk about it.” Keith avoided Hunk’s eyes, the shining innocence no longer there to greet him. Did he even know the man in front of him? Hunk deflated a little, his expression returning to its previous state.

“Yeah, okay. I get it. I’d be pissed if my trust had been broken like that too.”

Keith’s closed his eyes as his mind swam, thoughts difficult to grasp as the fever pulsated inside his skull. His thoughts were absurd and thin as he tried to imagine Hunk as a regular Don Juan. A surfing Casanova. Swim-suit Harry. Hunk lying on a surf-board, a smoking jacket made out of wetsuit material and a long pair of tongs wedged in his teeth, the scalloped ends blooming outwards like the petals of a rose. The surf lapped at his back under gentle moonlight as thousands of tiny women (or maybe men, Keith didn’t know his preferences) swarmed him as they slowly dragged his friend into the sand chanting ‘Sweet meats!’ over and over. Keith was shouting out to Hunk, telling him he needed to get up! Please don’t go! Don’t leave him!

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here.” Hunk’s honeyed voice called as it sunk beneath the sand, the swell of his elbow the only thing visible below the rolling cascades of sand and shale. Keith called out for his friend again, trying to grab at the sliver of Hunk left but it was like struggling through treacle - or Coran’s food goo.

“Easy Keith, I’m not going anywhere.” Hunk’s cool hands were holding an ice pack to his forehead, his worried expression looming into view where the moon once was. The moon was the low glow of a round lighting panel high above them, and the rhythmic rushing in his ears faded from its seascape to the blood pumping through his overheated skin. Heaven was a four inch icepack; Keith tried to push himself closer to the pearly gates.

“It’s really taking it out of you, eating for two.”

What.

“Or would it be more? It’s an alien species and this is fairly uncharted territory. We can’t really make assumptions at this point.” Hunk was testing Keith’s temperature with the back of his hand. It had probably decreased to a satisfactory level since Keith had just died for real. He could feel that his heart had stopped beating about the same time he stopped breathing.

_What?_

“Hunk.” He rasped, catching his friend’s attention. “Hunk, what do you mean by that?”

Was… was Keith pregnant? _Shit._ What? Had Coran been holding back on him to keep him from panicking? In his muddled state it felt entirely possible. Keith had a fair grasp on Morrim physiology after his crash course on the mountainside but he didn’t really know how they reproduced.

“Well, we can’t really count how many of them are in you when they’ve burrowed into different parts of your body. Coran says he thought it was just the one, but I dunno man. Space keeps surprising me and I’ve learnt not to discount or expect anything. If you think there’s just one Galra ship there’s going to be a whole fleet just across the solar system. You think you’re growing one Alien in you? You could be literally full to the brim with them right now. We just don’t know.” Keith lurched past Hunk and emptied his stomach, the spatters of bile and half-digested goo narrowly missing his friend.   

Hunk sympathetically patted Keith’s back as he heaved until there was nothing else to come up. Keith had never regretted a moment of indiscretion more. Never again would his self-control slip. He would be celibate from this moment on. Like a monk.

“I don’t want to shave my head.” He mumbled, face pressed into the crook of his arm. His mind was still hazy as he grappled with coherent thought.

“What?” Hunk asked, lifting Keith into a more comfortable position and replacing the icepack.

“I’ll never repeat this mistake. I swear. I’m going to become a monk and be celibate so this can never happen again.”

“I don’t follow.” Hunk’s expression was scrunched up in confusion. “What do you mean? You…”

“I vow to never to use my dick again. It has only brought me hell and alien babies so far.” Keith was feeling a little dramatic, but it felt pretty justified considering his current predicament.  

“Dude!” Hunk cried, shrinking back. “That’s disgusting! What the hell have you been doing to your food?” Hunk scooted back further, abject horror carved into his features; palm pressed close to his chest.

“My food?” Keith dropped his reverie as he peered at Hunk.

“Food is for eating! What’s wrong with you?” The Yellow Paladin had turned a strange shade of green as Keith tried his best to pick his way through their winding his conversation, his mind possessing all of the reasoning and tensile strength of a 2ft flump.  

“Why are you bringing up food right now?” Keith tried to start simple, the marshmallow of his mind quickly becoming gooey in the heat of fever.

“Well that’s what we’re talking about aren’t we? I _thought –_ Coran told me you ate some bad food and got space gut worms! I really had sympathy since you’re meant to be able to trust your food, but _dude-“_

“I didn’t eat anything bad. I haven’t got gut worms.” Hunk immediately calmed, disgust receding from his features into a blank confusion.

Keith steeled himself, too tired to muster any further embarrassment or thought more prominent than the rolling mantra of: ‘just let me die’ that had been growing to a sharp crescendo as realisation dawned. Hunk hadn’t known, but now he had to be told.

“Hunk, I-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr: [here](http://callunahiat.tumblr.com/)


	7. Days of our (space) lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk what I'm doing still + honestly I'm amazed anyone is keeping up with this mess  
> (Ily)

Hunk hadn’t stopped laughing for ten minutes. Every time Keith thought he was done, Hunk’s cheeks would swell until his face crumpled from the pressure; expression bubbling with humour at Keith’s expense once again. Keith felt irritation building inside him and though he never wanted to snap at Hunk, he was getting close.

“Hunk…”

“S-sorry, sorry. Jeez, this must suck. You’re fighting off something Humans probably have like zero defence against. I’ve never seen you this sick, not even when we all got the runs from that fruit on Epsilon Thirteen.” Hunk wheezed, finally getting himself somewhat under control. He straightened up after a few moments and handed Keith’s icepack back to him from where it had fallen.

“So what happened?” Hunk leaned back in his chair, a patient expression upon his features. Hunk was an angel, even if he had laughed at Keith; he didn’t immediately jump to making fun of him like some of the other Paladins might have. Keith blushed furiously as he prepared himself for twenty one questions. He prayed this wasn’t going to turn into an alien birds and bees (or bees and bees) talk.

“When the blizzard hit and Arne and I took shelter it uh… happened.” Hunk’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ but didn’t say anything. His shock barely lasted a moment before he was grinning, a sly quirk to his eyebrows.

“Damn, you move fast Keith! You know that you’ve lost the right to rib Lance for his flirting forever right?” Keith sighed.

“Yeah… Hunk, could we keep this a secret please? I really, really don’t want the others to know. _Please._ ” If he could contain this mess, he might just be able to salvage his reputation. He couldn’t bear being made fun of for the rest of the war because he knows neither Pidge nor Lance would _ever_ let this drop. Keith was sure that he looked pretty pathetic from where he lay and if Hunk’s quivering expression was anything to go by; he had just the right amount of kicked puppy going on to gain Hunk’s help.

“Yeah, don’t worry I won’t tell anyone. I guess Coran knows though?” Keith nodded weakly, committed to his role.

“He and Allura… I really didn’t want Allura to know but it was the only way to get back to the Morrim. Maybe they know a little bit better about what _exactly_ it is that I picked up.”

“…and maybe they’ll be able to fix you up too.” Hunk mused.

“That’s the idea.” Keith replied; his eyes sliding closed. His fever had lessened and the sharp edge of panic had worked its way through his system leaving him drained and vulnerable to the clutches of sleep.

“You know, it’s kind of possible… I mean I’m ninety-five percent almost certain that maybe-“Hunk rambled; a guilty weight to his shoulders and eyes that wouldn’t quite meet Keith’s. He drew out the ‘maybe’ like gum being picked from teeth. It was thin and pitched and Keith felt like he was on the verge of snapping at bubble-gum sweet Hunk.  

“What?” Keith was so tired; so very tired.

“It’s possible that Pidge is under the impression that you are currently dying, and it’s very likely that that is my bad.” Well, fuck. There was no way he could fix this without coming clean about the whole thing. Keith could not salvage this with the best will in the world.

“Hunk…” How had everything gotten so blown out of proportion? It was like a mid-afternoon melodrama where the writing was half-assed (because nobody was watching it) and literally every single problem the characters faced could be solved with a little communication and someone trained in de-escalation. Instead Keith found himself light-headed with itchy junk and the game of whispers had somehow skipped being slowly mangled from person to person, and Keith had been pronounced terminal by the first round.

“I’ll work something out. I said that I would keep your secret safe, and I’ve already put it in jeopardy. You just worry about getting better and leave everything else to me.” Keith loved Hunk. He was such a good friend. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Keith made to stand up when Hunk rushed forward to lift him up.

“I’m fine! I can walk.” It was a little embarrassing but he was so tired, part of him wanted to just let himself be ported about.

“Nope, no, nuh-uh. I said I’m going to help you, so I will. Where was it you wanted to go?” Keith acquiesced; it wasn’t far to his room. Hopefully they wouldn’t run into anyone and letting Hunk basically carry him there might make his friend feel better.

“I was just going to get some sleep before we land on the planet.” He replied, his feet barely pushing against the floor where Hunk had him supported. The pair backtracked past the pods and rounded the corner to Keith’s room when Hunk slowed and tapped at his friend’s arm. Keith had let his eyes close on the journey but slowly opened them; searching for what had stopped Hunk.

Pidge. Pidge and Shiro. Crying Pidge and worried Shiro, even worse. Keith groaned and he closed his eyes, savouring the last few moments of dignity he had left. (Comparatively speaking) Hunk leaned in close whispering quickly to Keith as he hoisted him into a proper carry hold.

“Let me do the talking.” Keith wanted to reply but where his ribs were being crushed against Hunk’s chest all that came out was a pathetic wheeze. He reached up to tap out of the hold but Hunk clearly thought he was just playing along, squeezing him closer.

“Easy buddy, we’re nearly there.” Pidge met them halfway, Shiro not far behind. Keith hated himself for making them worry like this. Deep, crawling, guilt rippled across his skin like shivers – no wait he actually was shivering.

“Keith?” Quiznak, Pidge’s voice was so small. It was easy to forget she was a kid – a kid in the middle of war that she never signed up for who had lost her family once already. Keith wondered if Shiro would sprout a new shock of white hair from all of this. _Keith was the worst._ Keith was going to space hell where the space devil would punish him for his space sins. He had to come clean; he couldn’t do this to his team.

“Shi-“He found himself abruptly cut off as Hunk spoke over him.

“He’s not with it at the moment; he’s got a really high temperature and he’s been having some crazy fever-dreams - talking nonsense. Let me just get him to bed and I’ll explain everything Coran told me.” _No, no, no._ Forget what he said earlier, Pidge and Shiro were really hurting. Keith’s pride wasn’t worth this. Hunk shushed him again as he started to say something and all too quickly he was being deposited in his soft, soft, bed and the door was whooshing shut behind his friend. Low voices on the other side of the door murmured for a moment or two before silence fell again. Keith’s eyelids drooped as he sank into the mattress, aches fading away with his strength.

When Keith next woke, his shoulder was being gently shaken by the Blue Paladin. Keith took a moment to piece together what was going on. Just for a moment, in the haze of sleep everything had been okay. Then, all at once, Lance’s glistening blue eyes and the sharp pain that jolted through his junk and fried his nerves reminded him. It hadn’t been a dream, and Keith still had a date with the space devil.

“Hey buddy.” Lance’s voice was soft and low, like he was consoling a child. At this point, Keith _deserved_ his fictional death. On the (many) occasion(s) Keith had imagined Lance in his room, voice soft and expression softer, it hadn’t gone like this. Lance hadn’t been crying (with grief), his expression screwed up (in regret).

“Hunk explained everything. We’ve arrived at the planet so I’m afraid we need you up. Think you can manage it?” Keith nodded slowly, lifting himself up and not at all relishing where Lance’s large hands gripped his arms. Keith did not allow himself to lean up against Lance as he was helped from the room, and he did _not_ enjoy a single second of it.

“What… did Hunk tell you?”

“He said that you’re sick, that you got sick when you went to fetch the spring water, and th-that the healing pods don’t seem to be helping you… I can’t do this. Look, please don’t be angry with Hunk that he told me what really happened.” Lance was carefully manoeuvring a slack-jawed Keith down the hallway, while determinedly staring straight ahead.

“He said that we had a right to know as your teammates, that we shouldn’t be keeping secrets between ourselves. I get why you didn’t tell any of us. I would have done the same.” Lance pressed on.

“You and Arne really should have taken some protection. What were you thinking Mullet?” Lance laughed weakly, still not looking at Keith. Keith didn’t have to wait to enter space hell. He was already there.

“-Or taken me with you or something, shit.” Space hell wasn’t cold, it was _hot._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are awesome motivation for me + I really appreciate + enjoy them so...  
> *wink wonk* *noodge nudge*   
> Tumblr: [here](http://callunahiat.tumblr.com/)


	8. Doctor, doctor give me the news (I got a bad case of loving you)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the comments! <3 They honestly made me so happy + kept prompting me to sit down and work on the next chapter. You guys are awesome. 
> 
> On another note, I'm still thinking about Guy Fieri guys.   
> He’d send Zarkon to Flavour Town. His lion's weapon would be a giant skewer for long range attacks and grilling Galra over a space bbq.   
> Just... imagine.

Fire licked along Keith’s skin where Lance’s hands carefully supported him. Was Keith hallucinating again?

“I know that I’m probably not your first choice…” Lance trailed off, his head tilted away just out of Keith’s view. Keith couldn’t make his lips move; they were stuck, glued, silent. _Lance absolutely was the first person he would have thought of… would have wanted._ Lance was laughing nervously, ears burning and a fraught hunch to his shoulders. Keith could feel how tense the muscle was underneath his own weight. Keith tried to clear his raw throat and a strangled noise came out, far more pathetic than he intended.

“Sorry, uh, this really isn’t the time I guess. Hunk said that he would be joining you and Coran on your trip down to the surface.”

“Lance… “Keith swallowed, his heart in his throat. “-That’s not tru-” Keith tried, but was quickly overrun by Lance’s rambling, a forced note of cheer lacing his tone.

“Nearly there! I wonder if Allura will let me go down too. Maybe I could catch up with Yra or something.” Keith extinguished any further protests. Lance had started and finished the conversation by himself and Keith was too tired, too sick, to protest. His skin burned with regret instead of the hope he had felt before. How much more would his mistake take from him?

Keith was ushered to a shuttle quickly, the Paladins offering him encouragements: “Get better soon; we need you back to full strength.” “No more secrets between us, Keith, we have to be able to tell each other anything.” “I can’t believe you hid it so long, jerk. Go get fixed up quick.” Lance didn’t say anything after he had helped Keith settle into his seat. Instead he made a beeline for Allura, quirking his usual cheesy grin and finger guns while the Princess huffed.

Of course his teammates were delicately stepping around the subject. Their priority was a fully functioning team, like Keith’s should have been. He shouldn’t have been festering in his frustration and one-sided feelings. It led to stupid teenage mistakes. Keith hadn’t been behaving like a Paladin.  

At least Keith had missed their scorn; they had probably gotten their laughter and snide comments out of their systems while Keith was asleep. His only regret was that he hadn’t even been awake to watch the rift split open between him and Lance. Perhaps that was actually a small blessing in disguise.

The Morrim greeted their landing party as warmly as they had the last time, though there were no familiar faces amongst the delegation. Keith sighed as Coran delicately explained the situation on behalf of Keith and quickly they were taken to a low, wide building carved from warm stone, the interior plastered and painted in rich, earthy hues.

Keith was led down several hallways, fatigue calling Hunk to support him for the last leg of the journey. At the end of the hallway was a large, bright room with a single bed in the middle. Keith was sat on the impossibly soft mattress and encouraged to lie down while waiting for a physician to be summoned. Coran regaled one of the Morrim with quirky tales of hitch hiking through the Landorran system. Hunk squeezed onto the mattress beside Keith, neck craning to take in the room, and hands fiddling with the interface by the bed. Keith’s knees flung upwards to meet his chin, squeezing the breath out of him. Keith flailed and cried out before the bed straightened itself out again. Hunk grinned sheepishly at his friend before continuing to press buttons, carefully avoiding the large blue one in the corner. Keith’s back ached from the sudden assault, and despite how soft the mattress was he was still incredibly uncomfortable, jolts of pain flickered through him when he sat in the wrong position. Embarrassment paled in contrast to how much Keith wanted this whole episode to _end._

It wasn’t long until a tall, thin Morrim was ducking into the room and requesting for the room to be emptied. Hunk patted his shoulder as he shifted off of the bed, and Keith caught a thumbs-up being flashed his way from Coran. Just a little bit more humiliation and this would all be over. Keith was, of course, quizzed on his condition and he attempted to answer as best he could and recalled the exact chain of events as his doctor probed further. He really didn’t think that he needed to recall the _entirety_ of his trip when he knew exactly what was wrong.

 When did the symptoms start? Who did you… meet with? _Arne?_ And what Caval does Arne move in? A Caval is… _I see, that more or less answers my question._ What did you eat? What did you _drink?_ You didn’t drink the spring water? _Ah._

The doctor bustled out of the room again while Keith made himself decent. He still didn’t understand what a Caval was, but explaining that Arne was designated to collecting the spring water with Keith seemed to be a sufficient answer. Keith had thought back on the evening of the party as he tried to smooth over Arne’s distant and prickly demeanour. Shiro had unknowingly made a move on Keith in the Morrim culture and it had taken a fair amount of convincing to assure Arne that it wasn’t like that. Arne had dragged him away after their argument, telling Keith that he was going to make sure the Paladin had a send-off to remember. They had completely missed the spring ceremony, Keith barely catching the end of it. He really didn’t see how that had mattered. It was a poor show of diplomacy but almost certainly had nothing to do with his current problem.

After a few silent minutes, the doctor returned. With him were two small vials of liquid and one enormous syringe. The barrel was tiny, but the needle was long and glinted menacingly, winking at Keith. A cool breeze swept at Keith’s bangs, sweeping his muddled thoughts away with the wind.

“This,” The doctor began, presenting one of the vials to Keith between two long fingers. “-is for you to drink. It’s the spring water. We offer it to all visitors - not just as a tradition or custom but as a necessity.” Keith plucked the vial from the doctor’s fingers and snapped the seal open under the Morrim’s careful gaze. Keith hesitated a moment before downing the liquid; impossibly cool and tasteless. The doctor nodded before taking the empty vial and disposing of it in a chute that appeared from the wall before slipping back seamlessly.

“Now this should help clear the infection from your system. It’s… unpleasant but will remove all traces of your condition. You won’t need to worry about it cropping up again - or infecting anyone else. Embarrassingly, we Morrim have a very high rate of-” The doctor cleared their throat as they prepared the needle. “-carried diseases. The spring water’s natural properties are usually enough to boost any visitor’s defences which is why we offer a glass to all delegations within one sun-pass of their arrival. Accidents… do still happen though. Your partner should have told you.” Keith was motioned to lie on his front, his shirt lifted up to expose a swathe of skin. He tensed, waiting for the stinging scratch of a needle. After a beat of silence, a cool hand rested on his back, steadying him. Nothing compared to the agony of the needle finding its mark along his spine. The fluid crept outwards, alighting the nerves with fire that swept from the tips of his fingers to his toes. It crashed through him in waves and Keith couldn’t account for the noises he was making. The needle was removed and Keith lay still, trying to catch his breath. Sweat rolled off of him as shockwaves rocked through him, the intensity fading with each fresh surge.

“The drug unfortunately causes some inflammation to the area, and pain killers only slow its progress, which is why we don’t offer them. Take some time to rest; sleep a while. When you wake, you will feel much better.” Keith gritted his teeth and flexed his fingers into the pillow as he waited it out. He had enough mind to thank the doctor before he left, but could do nothing but focus on the pain and sensation running through him.

Keith must have fallen asleep, thick exhaustion overpowering him. He drifted between dreams and waking. He thought he heard Lance’s bright and pealing laughter somewhere in the distance before he lost time, consciousness resurfacing - or was he still asleep? The room was dark and Keith felt so light, lighter than he thought possible as Lance’s laughter washed through his thoughts. Someone was leaning down, caressing his cheek. Lance’s laughter faded from the distance, pitching between a distant, muffled sound and smooth clarity. The sound trickled away as lips claimed his own; soft and sweet. Keith kept his eyes shut and felt for the hand carding through his hair, content to enjoy the dream for a few more bittersweet moments.

As his hand caught the person tangled in his hair, Keith realised several things at once.

One: he was not dreaming - the gentle warmth and touch he felt was definitely real. Two: Lance’s sharp gasp had not come from the figure looming above him, but from a short distance to the right where the door would be, further confirming the reality of the situation. Three: Arne was grinning like a cat above Keith, thick arms bracketing his head. Keith dared himself to look in Lance’s direction. His teammate stood in the doorway, hand still in the process of swinging it open. Lance’s shocked expression was cast in sharp relief by the light hanging behind him; Keith could see that a furious red blush had swallowed his face whole. Lance’s wide eyes were flicking between Arne and Keith as he gaped. Keith caught his gaze for just a second before Lance was swinging the door closed again and squeaking out a quick “Sorry!”

Keith remained frozen, brain empty except for the sight of Lance burned into his mind. His attention was brought back into focus as Arne brought his hand to Keith’s neck, tenderly sweeping the pads of his fingers over the skin. Keith felt himself shiver with fury. He slapped Arne’s hands away and tried to push himself up to a sitting position. Arne’s brow furrowed, the barest hint of colour tracing over a worry line.

“What is wrong?” He murmured, attempting to reach out to Keith again.

“Don’t.” Keith snapped, pushing himself further back away from Arne. “Don’t you dare after you did this to me.” Arne’s expression grew darker, and the underside of his jaw flushed in a thin line to mirror his brow.

“Are you saying that I forced you…? You didn’t want-“

“No, I’m not saying that but I would never have- you should have told me what I was getting into! I have been so ill ever since- you knew that I needed to drink the spring water so why were you so insistent that I miss that party?“ Keith felt the anger roll through him, his muscles tensing and jaw set with a sharp edge. Arne’s expression flickered into something approximating guilt before he crowded into Keith’s space.

“I was too distracted by your beauty, please forgive me.” He leaned in to kiss Keith again but the Red Paladin moved himself out of the way.

“No, you were part of the official greeting party – you knew. You _knew_ that I would get sick.” The Morrim wouldn’t meet his eyes, but his apologetic expression had dissolved into something dark that Keith had caught glimpses of at the base of the mountain and in the garden.

“It was the only way to make sure you would come back.” Keith felt disgust roil in his stomach. He had guessed the answer already for himself, but actually hearing it as truth still shocked him.

“You’re here now, that’s the only thing that matters.” Arne tried reaching for him again; large hand circling around Keith’s wrist and tugging sharply. Keith gathered all of the frustration and anger from the previous weeks into his weakened muscles and tugged himself free. He twisted the hold until he was pushing Arne’s shoulder into the bed, wrist locked behind him. Keith leaned down and hissed.

“Don’t ever touch me again.” Releasing Arne he slid out of bed, taking a few hesitant steps before bursting out of the door and slamming it closed behind him. His momentum failed him as he stumbled down the corridor, still a great deal weaker than he was used to. He felt much better than before, but still wasn’t at full strength. His balance was shot, and he used the wall to keep himself going in the direction he intended. The burst of energy that his rage had provided fizzled out quickly and he found himself slumping on something like a bench a few corridors away from his room.

Letting his head drop into his hands, Keith tried to calm his nerves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously, fuck Arne.


	9. Space Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo

Keith raised his head as heavy footsteps approached. He narrowed his eyes in disgust, of course it was Arne. Keith readied himself to get up and storm away or punch the Morrim in the face when Arne came to a halt. Keith paused as Arne began to fold himself into a squat, his hands clasping the underside of his thighs. His head was bowed, exposing the pale skin that looped around the nape. Silence stretched long enough for Keith’s patience to snap when Arne spoke.

“I have wronged you. Though I can never un-do what I have done; I promise that I will carry this regret until my last sunrise.” Drawing in a sharp breath, Arne released a low almost sorrowful sounding note. Keith wasn’t entirely sure what was happening, but it was probably something like a formal Morrim apology. The Morrim slowly unfurled from his position and raised his head to meet Keith’s eyes. Keith found himself caught in the gaze for a moment before Arne shut his eyes and turned away, never looking back.

He was still reeling from the strange encounter when a familiar voice cut through the haze, and Keith was being jostled by Coran.

“Keith! What a ko-inkee-dink! I see you’re feeling better!” The Paladin blinked.

“Ko-inkee-dink?”

“Is that not how you use that turn of phrase?” Who taught Coran to say koinkydink of all things?

“No, it is. You’re using it right.” Keith felt the tension unwind from him as he grappled with Coran’s tangent.

“Splenabulous! Say, was that Arne by any chance? I trust that he was apologising _profusely_ to you?” Coran leaned in close, his gaze hard as it followed Arne’s last movements out of the building. It was startling in comparison to his loose posture and the idle twirling of his moustache.

“…he said that he would carry his regret until his last sunrise.” Coran’s gaze narrowed.

“Good.” The Altean slapped Keith sharply on the back of his shoulder before he ushered him out of the building.

“Let’s find the others and head back, shall we?” Keith simply nodded and allowed Coran to steer him through the town, each step simultaneously tiring and a relief. He felt stronger, the numbness receding from his extremities, his movements free from pain and nausea. He was still angry with Arne, with the situation in general, but he also felt good – almost whole again. The pair caught up with Hunk and Lance, sitting on the edge of a fountain, gazing up into the sky above them and naming new constellations they spotted.

“That one is clearly The Ranger. Look, if you squint it looks like a dude staring down the crosshairs of a gun about to snipe a monster.”

“Nuh-uh, that is a starfish riding a dolphin.” Hunk nodded with conviction, his arms crossed over the barrel of his chest. Lance span around to protest but fell silent as Keith and Coran approached. He quickly turned his attention to the space just between Coran and Keith’s shoulders, not meeting anyone’s gaze. A wide grin was on his face as he tapped his fingers to Hunk’s arm.

“Hey! Look whose feeling better!” Hunk lifted himself up before squeezing Keith into a tight bear hug. Keith thought his eyes might pop out.

“You’re looking so much better! How do you feel?” He placed Keith back onto his feet, a warm smile on his face. Keith returned the gesture and stretched a little.

“Much better, thanks.”

On returning to the castleship Keith was ordered to rest, and was sentenced to at least five hours of nothing in his room. He relented under the heavy, concerned looks from his team - and Pidge’s sharp jab to his arm. They were still pissed about him not going to anyone for help until very late. Keith rubbed at the small bruise forming where they’d hit and considered a shower and a nap; maybe some light stretches and strength exercises in the small space next to his bed. Almost mindlessly he did crunches, squats; lifts and curls whatever he can find in his room. It was important to recover lost ground, and Keith noted with no little amount of distaste that he was tiring far earlier than he was accustomed to. As he worked one thought just would not leave his mind. _“-should have taken me with you”_ What did he mean by that? Keith racked his brain but just couldn’t come up with an answer. Keith knew what he wanted it to mean, sweet baby jesus, what he _hoped_ it meant. He just needed to ask. One simple question. He just needed to go right up to him and ask. Just, _go. Walk. **One foot in front of the other.** _ Keith stayed in his room and exercised, playing the conversation in his head over and over until it echoed like tinnitus.

“Keith! Coming to dinner?” Hunk called, his head peeking around the door Keith had just passed.

“Oh! Uh, I was going to hit the training deck first.” Keith gestured with the towel around his neck. He wasn’t avoiding everyone. He was just very focused on getting back up to full strength.

“Well how are you supposed to put muscle on if you’re not putting any protein in you? You gotta eat Keith. I didn’t see you at dinner last night either.” Hunk pointedly raises his eyebrows at that. His logic didn’t leave much room for argument. Fuck sake. Keith relents and follows Hunk towards the dining area, listening to him talk about his latest work around the ship. Pidge and Shiro are already in there, talking near the table. Hunk ‘guides’ Keith to a chair and ‘suggests’ that he take a seat. Keith slings his towel over the back of the chair and tries to ignore the twisting of his guts. He needs to eat something in front of Hunk, his team really. Shiro would be just as ready with a lecture about taking care of himself properly. The others sit down around him, forcing the goo down their throats. Keith attempts a few mouthfuls, his worry easing. Perhaps Lance wasn’t coming to dinner. He manages half of the plate that Hunk put in front of him before Lance slinks in the door. Grabbing his own plate, he slumps into the chair next to his best friend who instantly recoils.

“Dude, you reek.” Hunk pinches his nose and shifts his seat a few centimetres away; a protective arm shielding his goo from Lance’s stink.

“Sorry, I was way too hungry to catch a shower first. Besides no-one comments when Keith waltzes in all sweaty.” He reaches forward and helps himself to the goo-rolls in the middle.

“I don’t smell. I always shower after I work out.” Keith wrinkles his nose, distracted by the jab. Lance doesn’t look at him, just teases his friend by reaching for things that puts his armpit close to Hunk’s face. Taking one last bite he rises from the table and heads out. He’ll do some stretches while he digests a little. He was lucky that he had dinner first, instead of finding himself alone with Lance on the training deck. Things were… awkward between them. Lance made small jabs from time to time as usual but he wouldn’t look at Keith. The tone of his voice, the resentment that clashed with his self-deprecating expression; it all felt wrong. The time to talk was that conversation back on the planet with the Morrim. As long as they could function as a team and form Voltron it was fine. All things pass with time. Keith just had to wait.

He had finished his stretches and was working through a few core muscle exercises when he heard the door to the training deck swish open. Keith spared a quick glance as he continued his squats, surprised to see Lance wandering in. Their eyes met for a moment, Lance casting a tall elegant silhouette in the doorway; Keith crouching like a goblin about to take a shit.

The moment passed and Keith turned away, his heart beat deafening the screaming of his leg muscles. This was… unexpected. He didn’t think that Lance was likely to come back to the training room. He knew Lance did work out beyond their group training, but it was just Keith and Shiro who would dedicate a whole day to working out; leaving only for meals.

They work in silence, save for the sound of breath and the grunts of pushing past the pain barrier. Lance does laps of the room, dead sprints from end to end, slipping in and out of Keith’s view. Keith feels the surging bravery of frustration. He’s going to talk to Lance. He’s going to talk to him about The Conversation. He’s gonna do it. Lance. Lance. Hey, Lance. L-

“Lance.” The blue paladin flinches, but turns; a casually blank look on his face.

“Yeah?” He calls from his side of the room.

“Can we talk?” Keith clenches his fist, quashing all of his nerves in his palm.  

“Yeah.” Lance doesn’t move so Keith wanders over. Lance is pink, his breathing heavy. Keith looks only at his face.

“Before-“ Keith bites out. “when you said that I should have brought you too. What did you mean?”

Lance’s lips part but he doesn’t say anything. He looks down, his jaw clenching.

 “I know I’m not as good as you. I mess up a lot, everyone looks to you – not me. No one would notice if I’m not here. I shouldn’t even be a paladin. You’re just better; I was always left behind, watching your back at the academy. I know that you don’t-“

“You’re wrong. Those things you said, you’re wrong. Sure you mess up, but you also work hard and I know that I can count on you in just about any situation. You’ve saved me on the battlefield so don’t say that you shouldn’t be a paladin. You’re an inspiring person Lance. You always seem to struggle through anything with that smile on your face. Everyone crowds around you but you can’t see it. You give us hope and energy.” Keith coughs; his face in flames. Lance’s face matches his, confusion being split by a tentative smile. Keith draws a breath to say it.

“You would be my first choice. You said that you wouldn’t be, but you are.”

“Thanks, Keith.” Lance scratches at his cheek, bashful. “I know that I probably wouldn’t have been as helpful as Shiro in that situation but it means a lot to me.”

Wait.

“I’m sorry that I pick fights, it’s just me being-“

Wait.

“-and I really-“

Oh no.

“-great team.”

Shit. Shit, oh fuck, oh no. Oh fuck no. Oh shit fuck no.

“Lance what do you know about what happened on the mountain?” Keith feels sick, all of the blood has left his body and he think his legs are two seconds from failing him. Confusion once again takes Lance’s features. His grin has slipped.

“Uh, well you fought that monster that poisoned you right? With, uh, Arne.” Lance reddens as he mentions Arne, his gaze swivelling away steadfast on the wall.

God.

“I, yeah.” Keith fumbles through the conversation, mortification slowing him. “Sharpshooter.” He blurts out. “You’d have spotted it miles away and taken it out before it even reached us.” _He needs to leave. He needs to leave right now._

“I didn’t say anything about Arne. When, you know.” Lance peeks at Keith, clearly uncomfortable.

“Not that it’s not okay! That you’re gay, I mean. I just thought you’re a private person, probably wouldn’t want any of us gossiping about you two. Um.” Lance licks his lips and tries again.

“My cousin is gay.” Keith thought he had found space hell before but he was wrong. He was in Space Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo (please kill me now). Lance didn’t know. Lance. Did. Not. Know.

Keith just told him that he wanted to bone him but Lance was not talking about that. He was not talking about that. _Oh jesus. Abort._

“I… have to go now…” Keith backs up a little, desperately trying to control the wild panic in his eyes.

“Good talk, though. I’m glad we’re on the same page, partner.” _Did he just fucking finger gun as he said that? He needs to leave, the situation is rapidly declining_. Making a hasty exit, Keith vowed to drown himself in the shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the hiatus... and the fact that this chapter isn't too long.   
> Feedback is always super welcome.  
> Guys, take your meds. Look after yourselves and listen to people who can help you.


	10. I'll take a happy ending, please.

Lance stood at the edge of the training room transfixed. Keith had long left the room, but Lance’s eyes had yet to leave the door. He had the sneaking suspicion that they had been having two separate conversations. Why would Keith ask him what he knew about The Incident on the mountain? Why did his answer change Keith’s behaviour? He was inclined to believe that everything Keith had said up until that point had been real, it had been true but it wasn’t what Lance had been talking about. He had acted so strange, his face bright red and unhappy as he’d left. This required an investigation.

Lance took to observing Keith much to the other’s chagrin. Each time he was caught, Keith turned red and disappeared or was excessively complimentary. Lance felt like Keith was trying to distract him, and in truth it was _working._ This guy he respected and compared himself to was treating him like an equal, someone he in turn respected. His combat prowess was complimented, his stupid jokes laughed at – perhaps a little too hard. The sounds that came from Keith were so forceful, complete unto themselves so they didn’t invite conversation. Like a shield thrust out between them, Lance relished the kind words he’d been longing for but in some ways Keith had never felt so distant. At least when he was bickering with the red paladin and riling him up, that was the real Keith reacting and giving as good as he got. This… was strange. Lance enjoyed it at first, but that had soured as he realised what it really was.

It brought their conversation to mind, everything that came out of Keith’s mouth was a completely unsubtle reference to the conversation they had had. Now that Lance had realised they weren’t talking about the same thing, it was like Keith was trying to retrospectively make the conversation what he originally thought it was. There was no room to think otherwise. Keith was constantly trying to reinforce the idea. Normally, Lance wouldn't have thought any further on it and accepted it as it is.Perhaps if Lance wasn’t as perceptive he would have missed it. As it was… Lance needed to get to the bottom of the mystery. He needed to occupy his mind. If it was thoroughly occupied by the investigation then there was no time to think about anything else that had been sneaking into his mind uninvited.

Perhaps he should talk to Hunk again. After all, it had been Hunk who had told Lance about the monster that had poisoned Keith; and Lance had reason to suspect that he hadn’t been told the truth. He found Hunk, sitting in a small seated area, tablet in hand. He flopped over the back of the cushioned seat and rested his chin onto his best friend’s shoulder. He squinted, the equations and schematics before him beyond his range of comprehension.

“Sup.” He launched himself over the back of the sofa onto the seat beside Hunk as his friend began a lengthy and detailed explanation of the figures on the screen. Lance understood some of it, but just couldn’t give it as much attention as the questions circling his mind. He patiently waited and did his best to listen as his friend talked until the explanation winded down and the two were in comfortable silence once more.

“Hey, Hunk.” His friend hummed in response. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this conversation I had with Keith.” Hunk continued tapping at the tablet but prompted him to continue.

“So Keith came up to me, because he disagreed with something I said before when he was sick.” Hunk had stopped tapping at the tablet. “Basically, I had told him that he was stupid to go to that mountain alone, and that he should have taken me with him.” Lance craned his neck back to gaze sightlessly at the ceiling as he continued. “And he said no, I was an awesome person etcetera and that I would have been his first choice-“

“Wait.” Hunk’s eyes had widened.  “Can you start from the beginning? What exactly did you say?” Lance arched an eyebrow his way.

“Um, that I know I wouldn’t be his first choice up on that mountain, but he should have taken me with him or something.” Hunk made a small sound.

“And when he came up to me the other day, he said that I was wrong about that but suddenly he got weird and he asked me what I knew about what happened on the mountain. So I said what you told me, that he was poisoned by that massive monster he fought with Arne. Then he got _super_ weird and left really quickly. He did, like, finger guns, Hunk.” Hunk had raised a hand to cover his mouth, barely covering the shock plastered across his face.

“What?” Lance asked, tired of being left out of the joke. “I’m guessing that that isn’t what actually happened then?”  Hunk looked guilty, his eyes shifting anywhere but Lance. “…Hunk.”

“Keith did-“ Hunk began carefully. “-get sick on the mountain with Arne.” Lance frowned and leaned in close. His stern eyebrows cowing Hunk who leaned back away into the sofa.

“Okay, so? What’s the big secret?” Hunk had just opened his mouth to answer when the doors opened behind them. Lance jerked up to meet the eyes of Pidge, looking guilty as hell. Thank goodness it wasn’t Keith walking in on them talking about him. Pidge looked at each of them in turn and silently stepped back out of the room. Lance exchanged a glance with Hunk, both of them puzzled. Hunk eventually sighed and straightened up.

“Listen, Lance, I’m gonna tell you something that you cannot repeat.”

 

-

 

Lance slumped down in his seat at the dining table. Shiro was chatting with Allura and Coran. Hunk sat next to him, staring guiltily down into his goo. Keith sat in the seat furthest away looking anywhere but Lance, while Pidge wouldn’t look at anything but Lance. Lance frowned and pulled faces to distract them. In turn all he got was a pointed look between Hunk and himself and a raised eyebrow. He didn’t speak Pidgenese, what the heck was that meant to mean? He raised his own brow in return, challenging her. They shrugged, face neutral before returning to their food. Weird.

Lance glanced over to Keith, he was pushing his goo around on the plate, shoulders hunched forward. Water had pooled around the nape of his neck, staining the t-shirt from where he had come straight from a shower. Lance eyed a stray lock of hair that had plastered itself to Keith’s pale neck. For once Keith was without his gloves and Lance could see the knob of his wrist and how long his slender fingers were. Lance snapped his attention back to his food. His focus drifted without a careful watch. His wandering thoughts and eyes had been a danger ever since the Morrim. The whole thing had left Lance feeling vaguely confused like he was missing a piece of a jigsaw, or he finally noticed that everything he saw was slightly out of focus. It was life as he had known it, as he had ever known it but it was like he was nearing clarity until now he couldn’t have grasped. He just couldn’t say what it was more than a vague feeling in the back of his head and Lance itched to understand it.

It had been many months since The Incident and though things had returned to normal, some things were different. Lance had felt his confidence grow, felt settled within the group since his conversation with Keith. Lance was resting in his room, thinking back on the conversation when something clicked. Keith didn’t know what Hunk had told Lance. The last Lance had told Keith was that Lance knew _everything_. Keith had meant everything that he’d said; Lance just didn’t understand it at the time. Lance could never have believed him in that moment. It had taken him months to get comfortable with the idea that Keith saw him as an equal. Even though Hunk had told him the real story, in which Arne was a scumbag and… what happened. Lance had considered the mystery solved and pushed the conversation aside. It never connected: The idea that Keith would have wanted Lance, wanted him like he had wanted Arne. Lance felt his face heat, his belief catching up with his realisation. _Oh._

Lance felt uncertain as he sat in the dim light of the room. He was flattered, first and foremost. It felt good to be wanted, he couldn’t deny that. Then he thought if he would ever return the feeling and he hesitated. His hesitation in itself surprised Lance. He thought he knew where he stood with his sexuality. He liked women, but his mind didn’t immediately dismiss the idea of being with Keith like he thought it would. Instead his mind wandered. He considered Keith’s face, his stupid long hair. The soft expressions he would sometimes throw Lance’s way, How cool he looked throwing himself into the heat of battle, Keith sweaty and breathless in the training room. The piercing looks Lance caught once or twice.

Lance let his mind drift and found his answer.

 

-

 

Keith was halfway through changing for bed when the intercom at his door buzzed, the metal sliding open. Keith, a deer in the headlights, watched as Lance visibly swallowed the nerves he was radiating and stepped into the room. Keith caught up with himself and shook himself free of his stupor.

“You should really wait before you open the door; I’m in the middle of changing my clothes.” Keith felt perhaps it was a little redundant to say, Lance’s eyes were glued to his bare chest. Lance cleared his throat and dragged his eyes up to Keith’s. Keith would deny that their lingering trail burned.

“Keith, what you said before…” Lance licked his lips, hesitating over the words waiting to be released.

“Tell me again.” Keith felt hope swell in his chest. He dropped the shirt that had been tangled in his fingers as he turned to Lance properly. He steeled himself with a small calming breath.

“...I would have wanted you.” His words seemed to punch the breath out of Lance who reached forward, his hand moving to cradle Keith’s cheek.

“Can I?” Lance murmured, quiet, his features cast into sharp relief by the dim lights. His palm was warm and dry, heaven on Keith’s skin. Keith reached up and met him half way, sinking into the kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!


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